Twice Upon a Blue Moon (22 page)

“Do you remember the stoplight?”

“Yes.”
Vaguely
. It wasn’t his fault. She just had a hard time concentrating when he was tracing her skin with feather-light caresses—an affliction worsened by the click of Ward’s footfalls.

“Put this on,” Ward said briskly and tossed something metallic onto the perfectly made bed.

Hazel picked up the chain. It attached to a strip of coiled leather at one end and a collar at the other, the latter secured with a steel buckle.

“You don’t have to,” Dylan put in, his breaths fanning across her shoulder as she straightened. “But you’d look hot wearing it.”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have a healthy appreciation for props…”

That said, it still took her a minute to slide the collar on and secure it, her fingers big and clumsy around the buckle. Dylan didn’t reach up to help her. She wondered if that had to do with Ward’s presence in the room—or, better yet, his silence. She cinched it reasonably loose, swallowing a couple of times just to feel the leather pull against her throat. “What do you want me to do with the lead?” she asked, chest rattling. The length of chain dangled uselessly between her breasts, leather handgrip brushing her inner thigh.

Dylan didn’t answer, but he turned her a little so Ward could take hold of the lead. In the process, he stroked the back of his pale hand along her sex. Hazel gasped. There was no injunction against speaking and yet the moment felt so charged that she was hesitant to break the silence.

“On your knees,” Ward commanded. His features were set with obvious intent, but the heat in his black eyes chased away all sense of dread.

Hazel steadied herself with a hand on the bed as she sank down, never dropping his gaze. She wanted him to tell her it was a faux pas. She wanted those strong, heavy hands of his in her hair, steering her. Her breath caught when he raised one, but it wasn’t to strike her.

Dylan’s towel brushed her ankle as it came undone and fell to the floor. She knew immediately what Ward intended and she was turning before he could beckon Dylan closer. He was already erect and flushed with blood when she took hold of him.

“Greedy,” Dylan rasped. He flexed his fists at his sides, the muscles in his abdomen drawing taut. “Fuck, your hands are cold.”

“Oh, I’m sorry—”

“He likes it,” Ward said from high over her right shoulder. He was rummaging for something in the bedside drawer, the sound vague but purposeful. Hazel couldn’t puzzle it out until he pressed a condom into her hands.

“I’m not crazy about sucking latex…”

“And I’m not crazy about STDs,” Ward countered. “Put it on.”

“That’s becoming a familiar refrain,” Dylan chuckled. He had the good grace to sound a little choked.

Hazel glanced up at him as she tore the condom out of its wrapper and slid it delicately down his cock. She was gratified when he coiled a hand into her hair to pull her forward, impatience winning out.

That’s it. Use me.

She wasn’t going to think about why she needed it so badly or worry that she was giving Dylan and Ward too much power over her. As she parted her lips around the head of Dylan’s erection, she found her thoughts leaching like water through a sieve.

Dylan was heavy and hot on her tongue, her lips sealed tight around his shaft, and she reveled in the aborted, near-imperceptible movement of his hips as he struggled not to thrust forward. His exhales were guttural moans, pleasure writ in the tight pull of his fingers in her hair. “That’s it,” he growled. “Just like that.”

She would have obliged gladly, if Ward didn’t pick that precise moment to pull lightly on the lead, dragging her back. The collar tugged around her throat, an unpleasant sensation, and Hazel slid off, licking her lips.

“I thought you wanted—”

“I didn’t say you could get him off,” Ward interjected. She could hear the suppressed laughter in his voice.

“Sadist,” Dylan breathed fondly.

The warmth in his voice settled Hazel’s bourgeoning anxiety.

“I’ll let you have more if you remember not to make him come,” Ward murmured. “Can you do that, Hazel?” The way he phrased it made the question sound innocent and fair, a matter of choice.

Hazel didn’t want
choice
. She licked her lips and nodded, ducking her head to take as much of Dylan into her mouth as she could. His cock was longer than Ward’s and though slightly thinner, it still filled her mouth perfectly. She knew what would happen when she worked her throat muscles around him.

A sharp, almost pained noise erupted from his chest.

This time the pull on the collar was sudden and merciless, coupled with a hand in Hazel’s hair to drag her off Dylan. Ward forced her gaze to his. “What did I just say?”

“I wasn’t paying attention?” Hazel retorted, defiant.

She loved the spark of anger in Ward’s gaze almost as much as the answering, disbelieving guffaw she heard from Dylan.
How’s that for a good submissive?

“You want to suck cock? Fine.” Ward undid the zipper on his slacks one-handed and fumbled for his erection. Another condom. Another hiss of torn foil. Ward’s dexterity was a thing of beauty—much like the raised tendons in his wrist as he gripped the base of his dick.

Hazel was ready when he pulled her to him, her mouth watering in anticipation. She was ready for the brutal scrape of the collar around her neck and the eye-watering pressure in the back of her throat.

What she didn’t anticipate was that Dylan would take that moment to crouch down and palm her breasts. A zing of pleasure skittered beneath her skin, distracting her with its heat and its promise of more, more, more. She forgot to breathe through her nose for a moment.

The cough that rattled free of her lungs would’ve been mortifying if Hazel could have still thought in those terms. Ward canted his hips back, letting her catch her breath. “Is this what you want? Do you need to be punished, you greedy little slut?” His grip on her hair was as rough as Dylan’s fingers pinching her nipples. And Hazel was caught between them, a fish on a line, wriggling helplessly.

“He asked you a question,” Dylan purred, the good cop to Ward’s bad. “Don’t you think it’s polite to answer?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I need…” Hazel sucked in breath after harsh breath, her throat scraped raw. “I need to be punished. I need this.”

Ward gripped his member by the root and nudged it past her lips again, as though to silence her. With his fist in the way, Hazel couldn’t take as much as before. She couldn’t choke on it, either.
Good thinking.

“God, that’s sexy,” Dylan chuckled. “You look right at home with a cock in your mouth, sweetheart.”

That’s so demeaning
was Hazel’s first, foggy thought. Her second was
fuck, that’s so hot.

Dylan didn’t stop there. His talented hands roamed—restlessly, it seemed to Hazel, then with purpose. When he slid a fingertip between her folds, she could barely resist arching her hips to demand more. But that wasn’t how this game was played. As soon as she bucked, Dylan removed his hand completely and went back to kneading her breasts. The disconnect between his rough hands and his heartrendingly tender kisses was so powerful that Hazel felt like there were two of her—one who deserved a gentle hand and one who had earned her penance.

Both were at Ward’s mercy when he finally backed off.

“On the bed,” he growled and if Hazel had once thought that Dylan’s bedroom voice was capable of bringing her to heel with a single word, then she hadn’t considered who he’d studied under.

She nearly got tangled in the chain in her haste, but with a helping hand from Ward, Hazel landed on her back, knees still hooked over the edge of the bed. She yelped when Dylan hauled her back to him by the ankles.

“You think she’s earned a reward?” Ward asked conversationally.

“Who says it’s a reward?” Dylan’s eyes gleamed as he pressed a bite into the crease of Hazel’s hip.

She knew better than to try to wiggle out from under him. Ragged breaths scraped the inside of her throat when he veered closer and closer to her sex, anticipation mounting. Behind her breastbone, her heart was a frantic drum marking time. She was as unprepared for the first swipe of Dylan’s tongue as she was for the bed dipping when Ward dropped down to the mattress beside her.

He had undressed hastily, not much of a strip show. The sight of him naked and prowling toward her tugged a moan from Hazel’s throat. She reached for him blindly, greedily, hooking both hands around his shoulders as their lips met. She already knew that Ward didn’t kiss like Dylan. He didn’t seem to believe in taking his time. He was all conquest and teeth, palming her cheek with one hand and fisting the metal chain with the other. The links clicked and jangled together, a reminder of what was at stake.

“Look at him,” Ward ordered. “I know he can eat pussy well. You should appreciate every facet of his hard work, don’t you think?” He glanced down her body himself, gaze fastening to the crown of Dylan’s head as he fucked her with his tongue. “Look,” he urged again, when Hazel was slow to obey.

He slid a hand behind her nape, propping her up so she’d get a good view of Dylan’s greedy, noisy slurping.

As if she needed visual proof. Every stroke of his tongue was like a lash, at once sweet and agonizing. Every press of his fingers into her cunt had her choking back pleas for more, for harder. She knew what he was doing to her—he’d done it before.

“Drives me crazy when you—
yes
,” Hazel hissed, “right there. Oh, fuck—”

She groped for purchase on the bed sheets and somehow found Ward’s thigh instead. He didn’t so much as flinch when she dug her nails into his flesh.

“Getting close, aren’t you?” Ward hooked a fingertip beneath the collar. “Going to come all over his tongue?”

Hazel nodded frantically. She could taste her climax. It was building at her core, fueled by each tantalizing stroke, each whisper.

“Stop,” Ward said. To her great horror, Dylan immediately pulled away.

A whine tore from Hazel’s chest. “
Fuck
. Why?”

“I didn’t say you could come, did I?”

You sound like him
. It wasn’t such a terrible thing. Dylan, after all, was running his hands in soothing circles over her thighs. That didn’t stop Hazel from glaring up at Ward. He looked good up there, lips crimson from kissing, sunlight catching on his blond hair.

Hazel boldly walked her fingers up his thigh to the curve of his dick. “You gonna make me choose?” Her words were slightly slurred. She hoped he didn’t mind.

“No.” Ward caught her wrist. “Because you’ll take us both.”

Dylan crawled up onto the bed with them, his lips curled into a knowing grin. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’re gushing wet just at the thought…” He would know. He had two fingers inside her, scissoring gently along the tight clutch of sensitive muscle.

Hazel arched beneath him, a moan building in her throat. She didn’t have to wait long. Dylan seized hold of her hips and pressed in slowly and gently, entering her with just the head of his erection. She clenched around him all the same, mounting anticipation getting the better of her.

“Relax,” Dylan crooned. “You’ll enjoy this.”

“She already is,” Ward said, practically reading her mind.

It was just as well that he did the talking because that part of Hazel’s brain had checked out by the time Dylan settled above her.

He nuzzled at her lips until she opened her mouth to him. Then they were kissing—or rather he was kissing her—and Hazel could hear someone panting for breath but it didn’t occur to her that those wheezing noises were coming from her own throat until Dylan pulled back to watch her.

“Quit screwing around and fuck her,” Ward grunted. “You know you want to.”

Dylan lost the gentle, tender pace almost at once. Hazel ran her hands over his flanks reverently, so caught up in the pistoning movement of his hips and the intense concentration painted on his features that she didn’t feel Ward slip away until he was sliding something cold and tight around her wrists.

It was the leather cuffs Dylan had used on her in the playroom.

Ward gripped the chain with one hand, forcing her arms above her head. “There’s more where that came from.”

“God, I hope so,” Hazel blurted out. Her face was already so hot that she didn’t think she could blush redder if she tried.

Dylan slammed his hips into hers, curbing that thought before it consumed her. “Fuck, this feels so good… She’s so
tight
.”

“I know,” said Ward, a cocksure twist to his mouth. “Fuck her hard and don’t stop until you come. She can take it.”

Hazel wasn’t so sure, but she didn’t disagree. The harsh pounding gave her just enough friction to keep her lucid and aware of her surroundings. Everything else was Dylan and Ward and their hands sweetly bruising her tender flesh. She couldn’t smother her moans as she felt herself nearing the brink of release. Dylan wasn’t far behind. He dug his fingers into her thighs and thrust deep once, twice, before coming with a throaty growl.

Even flushed a deep crimson and shaking like a leaf, he was still careful as he curled over her.

“Ngh,” Hazel protested, rocking her hips beneath his as best she could. She was so close and it was so unfair—

“My turn,” Ward rasped.

He and Dylan exchanged places carefully, with Dylan holding the condom fast to the base of his cock as he withdrew.

Hazel’s inner muscles contracted around thin air, her thwarted orgasm ebbing away like a floundering storm. There was no one to stop her bringing her bound hands to her cunt.

Dylan chuckled when he saw. Ward smirked with half a mouth.

“You do it, then,” he snickered, “if you’re so desperate.” His stiff length gave him away despite the chilling edge in his voice.

Flustered, Hazel held his gaze as she struggled to align them. It was challenging to do it blind, but every delay only served to torment them both.
Turn around is fair play…

Ward filled her in one swift thrust, hoisting her ankles over his shoulders as pressed in deep. It hurt. Dylan had coaxed her open with fingers and cock, and Hazel was so wet that Ward should have slipped in easy, but it hurt a little all the same. Hazel cried out, the sound cutting off abruptly when she felt someone snag the chain in their hand.